Page 40 of Marrying the Mobster
“Fuck, this mouth,” he groans, using a thumb to swipe the tear racing down my cheek. “I love this perfect, sexy mouth,gatita. Dreamed about fucking it … just … like … this.”
His words push me over the edge, and I can’t remain passive. I’m burning with need and so wet that my juices have soaked through my bikini to dampen the insides of my thighs. Bobbing my head to match Diego’s rhythm, I slip a hand into my thong and press my fingers against the swollen, pulsing flesh of my cunt. I groan around his cock, so close to coming already it’s ridiculous.
Diego stares down at me with unfocused eyes and shakes his head. “Don’t you dare. Good girls don’t touch themselves without permission. And you’re a good girl, aren’t you, Elena?”
I mumble my agreement around a mouthful of Diego’s cock, frustration making me tremble as I remove my hand from between my legs.
“Let me see how wet you are,” he commands, still steadily pumping in and out of my mouth.
I raise my fingers so he can see my juices glistening on the tips, and he makes a low sound of approval before pressing his cock as far in as it will go.
“Fuck, yes … that’s so good. That’s my good girl … just like that.”
I close my eyes and fight for breath as Diego forgets to take it easy on me. Either that, or he’s stopped caring that I have a pesky gag reflex. He grips my head with both hands, cursing and snapping his hips until I feel as if I have no choice but to swallow or black out. My throat convulses around the tip of him, and Diego comes with a roar muffled through clenched teeth. His cock jerks and spasms in my mouth, his semen coating my tongue and sliding down my throat.
I fall against the wall when he pulls free, gasping for breath and dying for him to touch me. Hell, he could pinch my nipple and I’d probably go off like a firework.
Diego’s eyes are cold and shuttered again now that I’ve made him come. Maintaining my gaze, he holds his cock and slides it along my cheek, leaving a streak of his semen behind. Marking his territory. Markingme.
“Clean yourself up,” he says while buttoning his shirt. “Take your time. When you come out, I have an announcement to make and I need you by my side for it. You will smile and be gracious. Is that understood?”
I can’t manage words, so I nod and start trying to get to my feet. Diego finishes straightening himself out, and it’s annoying that he still looks so put together after what we just did. He doesn’t even have a hair out of place. While I trudge to the sink and start rinsing my mouth out, Diego looms behind me. I lift my head and meet his stare in the mirror.
“Stay away from Viktor Yezhov. He has a reputation with women that would land him in prison if Oleg weren’t his father.”
I swipe the back of my hand across my lips. “I thought all you mafia guys had the cops in your back pockets.”
Diego grips the back of my neck and wrenches me upright. “This isn’t a game, Elena. If you give that prick an inch, he’ll take a mile and he won’t wait for permission.”
I want to retort that Diego hardly asked me for permission before making me choke on his cock, but I let it go. I was willing and Diego knows it. He also knows that when he’s ready to take more from me, I’ll be willing then, too. My plan aside, it’s pretty obvious that I can’t help but give in when this invisible force exists between us.
The only salvation is for me to get away from him, but that’s becoming harder each day.
After finger-combing my hair and splashing my face with cool water, I leave the bathhouse. Diego is standing near the pool, and it looks like everyone has gathered around to wait for this big announcement. All eyes fall on me, and my steps slow as I approach, suddenly feeling nervous. I want to go back into the bathhouse and hide until they’ve all left. But I can’t do that. I’ve promised to play this role, and I have to see it through if I want to keep all the small freedoms I’ve gained—and perhaps earn a few more.
Diego is holding my cover-up over one arm, and his hands cradle two glasses of what look like champagne. I’m dizzy and disoriented from wondering what the hell is going on, but I move on autopilot, smiling at him as I accept the cover-up and slip it on. At least now no one will see how red and swollen my ass is after that spanking.
Slipping a champagne flute into my hand, Diego touches the small of my back and then kisses my cheek. The look he gives me as he pulls away is heavy with a warning I can’t interpret. I want to scream and shake him, and demand he tell me what the hell he’s doing.
“Thank you all for coming this afternoon,” he says, raising his glass.
The others are holding champagne also—except for the kids. Jovan has a smug smirk on his face and Marcella is giving me questioning looks. I shake my head, just as confused as she is.
“You might wonder why I didn’t choose to do this during a more elegant occasion,” Diego continues. “But I can’t think of a better time than when gathered with the people I care for most and their families. That’s what we are—the Pérezes and the Yezhovs—two families who might soon become one. And so, I’m happy to inform you all that I have asked Elena to marry me … and she has accepted.”
18
Diego
Elena waits until we’ve made it to the bedroom before she unleashes hell on me. I can’t pretend to be surprised. I expected a hissy fit of epic proportions after my surprise. Originally, I hadn’t planned to announce it during the barbecue. My intention had been to throw a cocktail party that would double as a surprise engagement celebration. It would be elegant and refined, and the very least of what a woman deserves when taking such a monumental step.
But Elena isn’t my girlfriend. We aren’t in a loving relationship, and this marriage will happen whether she wants it or not. There was no way for me to do it without upsetting her, so I felt no need to wait—especially after Viktor crossed the line. I nearly lost control in front of the entire party, but luckily made it to the bathhouse before venting my frustration and jealousy.
It takes swallowing a heavy lump of pride to admit that watching Viktor get close to Elena made me see red. I wanted to howl and roar and smash something—preferably that Russian prick’s pretty face. What happened in the bathhouse was a long time coming, and it felt so fucking good to finally have Elena the way I wanted. By the time I came down her throat, I had made up my mind. I need to have the rest of her—allof her—and it can’t wait. I might be rushing this marriage to put an end to the power struggle with Oleg, but I won’t deny I have my own motives. Motives that make me want to rush her to the courthouse first thing in the morning to get it done.
That’s not the way things are done in my world. Everything must be done with as much fanfare as possible. Which means I have no choice but to rely on mine and Elena’s agreement to keep her in check when we’re in public. Private time is another matter.
Elena smiled and leaned into me like a loving fiancée after the announcement. She accepted hugs and congratulations without batting an eyelash. Standing at my side for what was left of the party, she presented the perfect image of my future bride, proving that I’m making the right decision. Not every woman is cut out for life at a mobster’s side. Elena has what it takes, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
